


Breathe

by ShadowstarKanada



Series: Lung Capacity [2]
Category: Metal Gear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-18
Updated: 2005-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:13:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23721397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowstarKanada/pseuds/ShadowstarKanada
Summary: After Otacon reveals his damage from the events at Shadow Moses, he goes into hiding. Solid Snake manages to find him.
Relationships: Liquid Snake/Otacon
Series: Lung Capacity [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1708537
Kudos: 9





	Breathe

Three months.

The night of the Talk, as Snake had come to refer to it in his head, Otacon had left the apartment incognito. He hadn't taken any of his things. Snake had woken when the door opened, but he hadn't had the heart to stop Otacon, thinking the other man just needed some time alone. But he hadn't been back in the morning, and he hadn't returned the next, or the next. Snake's contacts hadn't been able to tell him where the other man _was_ , but they had at least been able to tell him where Otacon was _not._ He wasn't being held by the Patriots. He wasn't at some research base creating a new kind of Metal Gear, or trying to stop the development of one. He wasn't dead in a gutter somewhere.

So Snake had taken his time. He'd investigated the possibilities, followed up on leads, and made more contacts than he knew what to do with. And it had taken him three months, but he'd finally found Otacon. The scientist was living in a small apartment above a grimy restaurant in a cheap neighborhood in central New York City.

Snake had been watching his comings and goings for almost a day now from motel room rented by the hour across the street. He was, to say the least, unhappy: if Snake could find him, someone else could have blown his cover just as easily. Not that he was really complaining about having found Otacon so quickly for himself, it was just--

"Who am I kidding?" he asked himself quietly, watching as Hal nervously looked around the street before going into the nearly hidden stairwell. "I'm scared he's going to run again," he said, disgusted with himself.

Dave ran his hand through newly shorn hair and smiled briefly as the light in Hal's new apartment went on, sending another ray of light through the darkness. He stood up and picked up his gun, the only possession he was really concerned about. All the rest of his important things were back at their apartment.

_His_ apartment. Just because he thought of it as being theirs together didn't mean Hal thought of it that way. On the other hand, it wasn't as though Hal's well-hidden bank account had stopped paying into the rent. Dave had taken that to be a good sign.

He put the gun in his underarm holster and covered his heat with the wide-brimmed hat he'd found at a tourist stand before he shut the door behind him. It locked with a quiet click. His eyes carefully skirted around the various stains on the walls and carpets, memories of violence in the bones of the building, as he walked down the hallway past the disused, broken elevator and down the stairs. He nodded at the grizzled desk clerk who watched his comings and goings with broken eyes, before opening the door and walking onto the street.

It was even worse outside. He couldn't help but wonder what had gotten into Otacon, when he'd chosen to live in a place like this. Three men selling cocaine in the alleyways, watching each other warily; four people selling their bodies; one looked too young to have the scars covering his body... Snake pulled his long coat tighter against his body as he walked past another man collapsed from drink.

He stepped onto the metal staircase and walked up it, letting his footfalls ring out loudly. If Hal was paying attention, he wouldn't be surprised by Snake's visit. He knocked on the wooden door through the metal grating around it, then tilted his hat out of his face and listened for the footfalls behind the door. A fisheye looked out at him through the peephole before the chain locks slid aside.

"You shouldn't be here," said Hal when the door opened.

Dave tapped on the locked metal part of the door. "Are you going to let me in?" he asked.

Hal pursed his lips, then nodded and reached for a key that must have been right beside the door hanging on the wall. "You really shouldn't be here," he repeated once Dave had stepped over the threshold.

"Neither should you," said Snake, taking the opportunity to quickly glance around the room. It had the look of some mad scientist's lair. Bits of computers littered the room along with papers filled with mathematical equations, all of it culminating in twin metallic spires in the middle of the room.

Otacon must have noticed his attention to it. "I'm looking for something to nullify EMP bursts," he said awkwardly.

Snake nodded and touched one of the gleaming heads. "So these things do that?"

"No. Those simulate the pulse."

"I see."

The stood in a silence that grew less and less comfortable. Snake surveyed what he could see of the rest of the small apartment. A tiny bed in the next room, blankets thrown off as though its owner had been tossing and turning from nightmares, covered with more electronics than sheets; a kitchen through the other doorway, dusty and unused.

"Can I... offer you something to eat? Drink?"

Dave looked at the peeling wallpaper. "What do you have?"

"The... the tap water's not good here. There's... vodka. Rum. Butterscotch Schnapps." Snake turned quickly, enough of a barhound to recognize a Morphine Drip when he heard the ingredients, but Hal had already turned away. "I think I might have some coke left."

"Coffee?" asked Snake.

Hal shook his head. "I... I go to Starbuck's down the street. I don't drink enough to buy it regularly."

He didn't drink coffee anymore? Dave shook his head and walked over to Hal. "Let's go there," he said quietly, insistently. Damned if he'd let Hal drink himself to sleep tonight. Maybe he could even convince the other man to come home.

Hal nodded uncertainly and walked to the door. Snake put a hand on his shoulder. Otacon might have been living here for all this time, but he couldn't possibly understand the dangers he was putting himself in by his simple choice of location. Nevertheless, Otacon rolled his eyes.

"Snake, I've been taking care of myself all this time."

Snake bit down on the question of _how well_ he'd managed to do that by drinking nothing but alcohol and fizzy drinks. "Do you eat at Starbuck's too?" he asked instead, his voice dripping with unintended anger.

Hal pulled the door closed hard so that it slammed. "I eat there when I drink there, which is only when I need to be completely sober."

_Ouch,_ thought Snake. _My expression must have been pretty clear._

A few cats down the alleyway meowed, and Otacon pulled out his keys, jangling them as he locked the first door, then shut and locked the second with a bit more control. He looked down. "I didn't mean that."

Snake put a hand on Otacon's arm. "I meant," he started more gently, "have you eaten yet, Hal? I'm hungry."

Hal turned his head and looked at Dave sideways. "That isn't a come-on, is it?" he asked, searching Dave's face.

Dave shook his head. "Just dinner," he said.

Hal worried at his lip for a moment, then nodded. "The Chinese place down the street gives me discounts." He walked down the stairs without so much as a glance at Dave, leaving the other man to scurry in his wake.

Dave eyed the people along the streets as they walked, making sure Otacon was in front of him enough that he could see the other man, but nothing untoward happened, the bums and drug dealers and whores paying no attention to the slight man, as though he wore his invisibility suit even now. A few more watched Dave out of the corners of their eyes, but the soldier didn't worry about that; that was what his gun was for.

The Chinese place, as Otacon had called it, was nothing more than a hole in the wall. Still, Dave followed Hal into the dark and waited behind him while Hal had a word with the proprietor, who led them yet farther into the pitch. "Menus," said the man, a thick accent coloring the otherwise neutral word. Snake looked down.

"I'll just have what you have," he said, closing the thing. _Chinese._ Did Hal think he could read that?

Hal shrugged. "Usual then. For two." Hal pulled out his wallet and opened it, then hesitated. "You're paying, right? It's up front..."

Snake nodded and pulled out his own money out of his back pocket. "How much?" he growled out.

"Twenty-three dollars," said their host in what had to be an accent he'd put on for show, given how Hal's eyes had rolled.

_Then again_ , thought Snake as he dolled out the money, _maybe that's just because he didn't give us a discount._ It certainly hadn't been much of a discount from Dave's perspective. For this atmosphere, the restaurant should have been paying _them_.

The waiter took the money quickly enough at any rate. With the speed he left at, Dave found it slightly hard to trust that he'd be back with the food. "I hope this place is good," he grumbled.

"Good enough," said Hal.

They both sat silent for a while. Dave didn't quite dare to look at Hal, worried the other man would take it as a reason to leave, this time hiding himself well enough that it took longer than three months.

"So," said Hal finally. "What have you been up to?"

He looked at Hal with a raised eyebrow. "Do you think finding you was _that_ easy? Were you _going_ to come back home?"

"Yes," said Hal uneasily. He scratched the back of his head. "I'm just..." He sighed. "You've gotta understand, Dave. I pushed all of that down. I didn't want to think about it. I mean, you aren't him, you're you, right?" He shook his head and sighed. "But then you came onto me like that, and it all just came rushing back, and I just..." He looked up at Dave with pleading eyes. "I just..."

Dave sighed. "Freaked out?" he offered.

"It's embarrassing, you know. I didn't want you to know about that." He picked up the plastic chopsticks and started twirling them around in his fingers. "I mean, bad enough that I wasn't good enough for _him_ , but to have _you_ know that I couldn't even hold a relationship together was just..."

Dave shook his head. "How can you--" He stopped, frustration coloring his thoughts. Hal looked away again and Dave sighed. This was about not scaring Hal away. "All right. You weren't enough for the demanding bastard. That doesn't mean much."

Hal looked away. "I guess," he said.

Dave's face fell unhappily. "It wasn't a reason to become an alcoholic."

"Hey, I'm not an alcoholic!" Hal said loudly, causing the other patrons in the place to look over at them. Hal bit his lip. "I'm not," he said more quietly. "It's not like I get drunk every day, you know."

"It just takes the edge off on hard nights," said Dave.

"Exactly." Hal's brow furrowed and he looked faintly insulted for a moment. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"It means... every night's a hard night," continued Dave. "And you drink yourself to sleep _every_ night. I understand, Hal, but it doesn't work that way."

"You come here after three months and you think you know what's going on in my life?" asked Hal, trying to be quiet despite the anger that Dave could hear in his voice.

"Did I _ask_ to be out of your life for three months?"

Hal looked at Dave angrily for a moment, then turned away. "No," he said quietly. "But _I_ didn't ask you to come back and make judgments, either."

Dave was saved from answering the question by the appearance of the waiter. "Do you have any forks?" asked Dave. The waiter disappeared without an answer. "Great." He picked up the chopsticks and tried to get at the food.

Hal sighed, then smiled. "Like this," he said.

Snake had always been good at learning the physical. He tried three times to copy Hal, and on the fourth, managed to get the idea. "So what is this stuff?"

"Monkey eyeballs." Dave stared at him. "Oh, relax, it's just noodles with beef."

_Not funny_ , thought Dave. Even so, it was good to hear Hal's lame jokes. He ate some of the food and his mouth twisted. The food tasted funnier than Hal's jokes sounded. He put the chopsticks down and watched as Hal ate his up like a man who hadn't eaten in a few days. "So what have _you_ been doing? Other than making things to simulate EMPs."

Hal shrugged. "This and that. I worked under the table for a computer repair shop, but that didn't work out too long. People started asking about me, immigration started coming along... so..." He slurped his noodles. "Well, that was only last week. I hadn't gotten around to finding a new job yet. I was thinking of applying to something above board though."

Dave looked at Hal guiltily for half a second. It was pretty likely that it'd been _him_ who'd asked all those questions. He took a bite of the lousy beef to cover it, grimacing again and the too-salty taste. "What about this last week then?" he asked, still a bit embarrassed to have been so heavy handed. "You were leaving your... _apartment_ a lot."

"Pentazamin to keep my hands steady," said Hal. Dave raised his eyebrows. "No really, it's hard to get, but it's as good for working with circuitry as it is for shooting people from a distance." Hal made a little face at that. "I was thinking of making some kind of tranquilizer that could be shot from a sniper rifle. I read about some guy using a setup like that in the sixties--"

"Hal," interrupted Dave, "where did you get the Pentazamin? You don't buy that over the counter." Hal flushed. Dave put his chopsticks down in the bowl of soup. "Don't tell me you've been buying things from those dealers on the street."

"Of course not, Dave! There's a pharmacy down the street. It costs a little more, but--"

"Hal!"

"Well who knows what they cut into it!"

Dave shook his head. "Those are both depressants, you know. If you're going to be taking things, you should take _anti_ -depressants."

"I'm perfectly fine," scoffed Hal. "It's not like I cry myself to sleep."

_No, that's what the vodka's for._ He shook his head and opened his mouth to say something, but the waiter came by before he did, dropping off two glasses of yellow liquid and small bowls of green ice cream. "What's this?" he asked, sniffing his glass.

Hal bit his cheek. "You probably won't like it," he said, then took his small spoon and dipped it into the ice cream deliberately. "You've never seemed like the kind of guy who likes desserts."

Dave took a sip and shook his head. _His usual is alcoholic. Of course._ "So how often do you come here?" Hal shrugged, looking at the liquor with sudden displeasure, as if it had betrayed him by revealing its true nature to Solid Snake. _Often enough to have a usual._

"It's Maotai," he said, taking another tentative bite of his ice cream. "They served it to Nixon, you know."

They hadn't served _this_ particular bottle to Nixon, he was certain. Hal looked up at Dave as if daring him to stop the scientist, then grabbed his glass and downed it. _At least he ate,_ thought Dave before taking another sip of the bad Chinese wine. _And this tastes like crap. They probably watered it down, so it's not quite so bad._

"Well, I'm done," said Hal, leaving his dessert almost untouched.

Dave stood up, leaving his entirely uneaten. This whole dinner had given him a bad taste in the back of his mouth, and it was only in part because of the food. "Let's go," he replied quietly, then took Hal's hand and led him out.

As soon as they were on the street, Hal shook his hand out. "Sn-- Dave, I... I can't... You... I..."

"It's okay," said Snake. He put his hand tentatively on Otacon's shoulder. Otacon didn't move for a moment, but then he took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly, and touched Snake's hand. He started walking, Snake following suit. "So where's the Starbucks?"

"Couple of blocks," said Hal, shrugging. Dave let his hand fall off of Hal's shoulder. The silence grew heavy again until Hal spoke. "I thought a lot these last three months, you know. About us, I mean."

Dave nodded, content to let Hal talk, but as the corner of the street grew nearer, he felt he had no choice but to speak. "Share?"

Hal sighed shortly. "Well... You're not going to like this, but I think you're a lot like him."

Dave grit his teeth. "How, exactly?"

Hal looked at Dave, shrinking away slightly. "You're both incredibly smart and handsome, and really intimidating when you're angry." Dave made his shoulders relax. "You also... both of you made me do things that scare me."

"I never _made_ you do anything," said Dave, his eyes flashing.

"Who wanted to move in together to make the costs lower?" Hal challenged, his eyes glancing sidelong at Dave. "Who thought it'd be better to take direct action than a letter writing campaign?"

"Who was complaining about their money going down the drain in rent?" replied Dave, a little incensed that Hal would think to say he'd been the only one to decide major issues like that. "Who said he'd like to do more about all the Metal Gears popping up around the world if only he had the ability to do what I do?"

Hal took a breath and shook his head and they walked along the sidewalk in silence for a moment, past the whores and pimps, past the crumbling building facades and into a slightly nicer area. Not very nice, but nice enough for a coffee shop where you didn't get shot. "You were so upset about Meryl," said Hal finally. "I was worried about you living all alone, doing nothing. It reminded me of how I felt when-- when he... died..." The last words forced their way out of him, dying on his lips like worms left in the sun.

Dave swallowed and looked at Hal's drawn face. Hal shouldn't have been worried about him. Dave was more skilled in analyzing the dangers of situations than his own personal analyst. And he'd had _himself_ to worry about. Had he worried about Liquid in this same way? "Did running off have some altruistic reason too?" he asked.

"No," Hal admitted in a far-off voice. "That was all for my own benefit. Like I said, I was embarrassed."

"And scared?" asked Dave.

Hal said nothing until they were at the door of the coffee shop. "Yes," he said, then took a deep breath and grabbed Dave's hand.

Dave smiled briefly and considered tightening his grip around Hal's hand, but discarded the idea as too possessive for Hal's wounded spirit. Instead, he held the door open for Hal, following when he'd gotten out of the cold. Hal took the initiative of ordering for them, looking a little embarrassed as he asked Dave to pay again. Dave took one coffee and Hal took the other and they walked to a table near the window, still holding hands.

"You cut your hair," said Hal, the tone showing that he'd only just realized it. Dave smiled slightly. Hal let go of his hand and made an abortive move to touch the clean cut hair. "It was better long," he said.

"I thought you'd like it better," said Dave. "No bad memories."

"I told you, they weren't all bad." Hal shrugged. "Thinking about them over the months... They're more distant now."

Dave nodded slightly and took a sip of the bitter brew, thinking of the times he and Hal had spent together, planning over better coffee that Hal made in their kitchen. "We should get your things and go back home," said Dave.

Hal nodded slowly. "I suppose it's time I settled back down," he said with a slightly wistful shrug.

"Miss your freedom already?" asked Dave teasingly.

Hal backed away slightly in alarm. "Huh?"

Dave's eyes widened. "Never mind. Bad joke."

Hal nodded uncertainly and took a gulp of his coffee while Dave reflected upon the difficulty of walking on eggshells around a man who made bad jokes one minute and bad relationships the next. "I _have_ gotten better, you know," said Hal, still a little uneasy.

"Yeah," said Dave. _Right after I made you talk, you'd have tossed your cookies. But you're still not all the way better yet._ "Maybe we could find you your own apartment for a while. In a better part of town."

"No," said Hal. "There's no real point to that. I... We both know you'd feel better if I came back. And maybe I'm just... scared of shadows."

"Then let's go," said Dave, chugging his coffee back before he crushed the cup and tossed it into the garbage.

Hal stood and took his with him. They walked back to Hal's apartment without incident, silence living between them. Some of their earlier camaraderie was returning, and the quiet passed between them more comfortably than before.

Hal unlocked the heavy metal outer door, then the wooden inner door, but stopped with his foot hanging in mid-air as he went to step in.

"Welcome home, gentlemen," came the voice in the apartment.

"Ocelot!" Snake would recognize the voice of his torturer anywhere. His reaction was immediate and instinctual, if unfortunate for everything else going on around them. He pushed Hal to the side and pulled his gun out as he ran into the apartment, everything else suddenly secondary to neutralizing the threat of that voice.

Ocelot's gun was out faster than his own, pointed at the metal door. "I'm not here to kill you, but I'm a master of ricochet and if you don't put that gun away he'll be dead before you."

Snake stared at Ocelot for a moment, then slowly lowered his gun. "So what _do_ you want."

"To talk. Throw your gun to the side and sit down." Snake nodded and tossed it, then started closing the door. "No, he's invited to the meeting," said Ocelot with a sneer.

Snake growled, but there was no choice. "Otacon."

"No!" came the strangled yelp from outside the door.

Snake closed his eyes for a second and turned to the door. He was defenseless at this point whether he was turned to face the other mercenary or not. "Otacon--"

Ocelot raised his gun and fired. "That was a warning shot," he said. "It hit two centimeters away from your hand. The next shot will hit..." he paused, and Snake grit his teeth angrily.

Otacon walked in, apparently unwilling to hear the rest of the threat. He closed the door behind him, not quite letting his eyes turn away from Ocelot. Snake smiled in reassurance. Ocelot hadn't killed them yet, which meant he wasn't intending to do it. Otacon looked away.

Snake stood between Otacon and Ocelot while they walked to the sofa. It might not have meant much, but he was sure Otacon appreciated the gesture. Ocelot had cleared things off the surfaces of the furniture, probably while looking for something before they'd returned, so they didn't have to clean anything themselves. Snake was thankful, in an odd sort of way, although coming back to find Ocelot in the apartment hadn't exactly been his idea of a good thing.

Snake sat down. Otacon took a seat too, of a sort. He curled himself into a ball and huddled himself against Snake. The hairs on Snake's arms went up, but he said and did nothing that displayed his alarm in front of Ocelot beyond a glance at Otacon that he might have leveled at anyone sitting beside him.

Ocelot looked at Hal and gave a short, sharp smirk, then twirled his gun around lazily. "There's an offer for you," he said, putting his gun into a holster under his arm. "Both of you," he said in clarification.

"So you're here for a bounty?" asked Snake, moving in front of Otacon as well as he could. It wasn't very difficult, given how small the other man was trying to make himself.

"No," he said with no little distaste. "This time, _I_ get to be the messenger." Snake raised an eyebrow but said nothing. "They want you to work for them. Don't ask me _why_."

"Work for them?" Snake shook his head. "He's not working on Metal Gear any more."

"They said he wouldn't have to." Ocelot sniffed. "Apparently, they think having him working on whatever his little heart desires is good because it means he's _not_ working on destroying Metal Gear. As for you, you'd be doing grunt work." Ocelot sneered. "Under me. I like that idea, one of you Snakes in your place for once..."

_Oh, what a lovely expression that makes._ He glanced at Otacon quickly, but he knew what the answer was even though he could barely see the scientist's face. "I don't think so," said Snake with a shake of his head.

"Huh," said Ocelot, looking too much like a cat who'd just been allowed to eat a canary he'd been watching for months. "You're still infected by FoxDie, aren't you?"

"So?"

Ocelot's smile widened. "We have a cure." Hal must have done something, because Ocelot's eyes flickered onto him for less than half a second before he continued. "Or maybe it would be better to say, a counter-agent. We can keep you alive for as long as you're with us."

Snake glanced at Otacon again. "And what's in it for _him_?"

"Saving your life isn't enough?"

"Not when you're involved," said Snake, looking pointedly at the other man's arm.

"Medication works wonders," said Ocelot. "There's a carrot and a stick to this offer. His sister. E. E., wasn't that the one who emailed you information?" he asked, a superior smile on his face.

"Bastard," whispered Hal.

Ocelot turned his eyes to the scientist. "Do you still remember me?" he asked, his voice suddenly lower and more... psychopathic somehow. Snake's head turned slightly as Hal started shivering beside him.

"Leave him alone," said Snake, moving to block Ocelot's sight.

In response, Ocelot began twirling his gun again. "Do you like to share like Liquid? I wouldn't mind taking him again."

Hal uncurled, rose to his feet and ran through his kitchen. A door slammed, and Dave heard the sounds of someone being violently sick. Snake glanced at his gun, his teeth clenched. "Tell them to send someone else."

"Is that a no?" he asked, not bothering to say which question he was asking.

Snake snarled. "We'll think about it," Snake said through his teeth, half his mind still on Otacon.

"Hm." Ocelot stared at him for a few moments, then stood. "I'll tell them your request, but don't count on it. We'll be around tomorrow." He walked to the door and paused with his hand on the knob. "Sorry about your boyfriend," he said with a smirk. He shut the door behind him.

Snake went for his gun, but by the time he'd opened the door, there was no one there. "Damn it," he said, slamming the thing and threading the chain lock into position. He rested his head against the wood for a while, mind racing.

Those things Ocelot had said... His poor Hal. Abused by Liquid, further by Ocelot... _Next I'll find out Mantis did him too_. He took a deep breath.

Eventually, the sound of breaking glass from Hal's bathroom broke through his thoughts. Dave pushed away from the door and walked over. "Hal?" he asked through the door.

"Go away!" came the sobbing reply.

"Not this time," muttered Snake under his breath. "Open the door, Hal."

"No!"

"Damn it, Otacon," said Snake. "Pull yourself together. It's a battle insult, it's designed to hurt, and if you let it affect you, you'll never manage to do anything. You're _Otacon_ , not some... whatever it is he thinks you are. You're Hal Emmerich, also known as Otacon, and you're my partner, who I care about, so open the damned door before I kick it in!"

Snake waited tensely. After a moment, the toilet flushed and there was the sound of running water for a moment before the door opened.

"How do you keep it from affecting you?" he asked, a bare whisper of sound.

"We're not what they say we are. We're who _we_ say we are," said Snake. His arms went around Otacon gently, pushing the man's red face against his shoulder. He might have wiped his eyes of any tears he had cried, but his body was still shuddering. Otacon's arms hesitantly went around Snake, one over his shoulder, the other under, clasping around Snake's back as if to keep him upright. For all Snake knew, it was.

He gently led them back to the couch, swaying with Hal every now and then. When they got there, Hal pulled himself out of Dave's arms and sat, shaking, with his head in his hands, and his elbows on his knees. Dave sat down beside him.

"I'd never do that to you, Hal," he said, putting a hand carefully on Otacon's shoulder.

"I figured out the differences, too," said Hal, quietly. "Between you and Liquid. Some of them." His eyes closed momentarily. "What are we going to do?"

"About the offer?" said Dave.

Hal nodded. "I don't like it, but... my sister... I can't let them..."

Dave nodded back. It wasn't as though he'd hate the idea of being free from FoxDie. "But we have to be prepared that they'll make you work on nuclear weapons, Hal. Could you do that? Even for her?"

Hal shook his head slightly, his face tensing with worry. "There are other scientists who can work on nuclear weapons. They don't have to make _me_ do it. Do they?"

Dave put his arms around the other man and shook his head. They didn't. But they probably would. _If they do, we'll just have to get rid of them however we can. In the meantime, we can learn everything about them._ They could always reconsider things when they had a better position from which to deal.

Knowing how things worked, though, Snake doubted that better position would ever come.

"Let's sleep on it," said Dave, surreptitiously looking around for the hidden cameras that Ocelot had most definitely hidden around the room. "Somewhere else."

"I don't know what we should do..."

What they _should_ do was open to debate. What they _needed_ to do wasn't. They needed to get out of this apartment and into the one they'd designed their own sophisticated security systems for. Dave stood up, bringing Hal to his feet simply by not letting go of the other man. "Come on, Hal," said Dave, pulling the other man gently towards the door.

He'd almost made it to the door when Hal stopped and pulled back, staring at the door in fear. "What if he's still out there?"

"Then I'll protect you."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I forgot how big it was," said Hal as they entered the loft-apartment. His eyes went to the security system, bounced over to the kitchen, and finally fell on the broken computer still in the middle of the room. "You left it there?" he asked, walking towards it hesitantly.

"I didn't want to break it even more," said Dave. He walked over to Hal, who had knelt beside it. "We need to talk."

"I know." Hal took a deep breath, his hands making an abortive move to the computer. "There's a newer laptop in my room. It was on my bed. Get it for me?" Dave nodded, watching as Hal stared at the broken computer for a moment before he walked quickly to Hal's room, took the computer and power cord, and walked back. Hal was busy putting the pieces of the old computer into a bag. "I don't need this one anymore," he said in answer to Dave's unasked question.

"Why were you holding on to that old one? Isn't it obsolete?"

"I... had pictures of _us_ on it. Him, me..." He shrugged helplessly.

"Right." Dave sat down next to Hal. "So let's talk. They've made us an offer. I can't say I like it. Do you think they're telling the truth about your sister?"

"I don't know," said Hal. "I didn't think anyone knew about her, but... Well, he _obviously_ did. I never even told Liquid about her, and I told him... everything else. I told him about my step-mother, I told him about the time I-- well, the _point_ is, I didn't tell him about _her_."

Snake grimaced. Hal hadn't told _him_ about the whole sister thing either, not until it was too late and Ocelot or Liquid or whatever he'd been that night had taken over the whole damned ship. He had no idea what the step-mother thing was. Thinking about it, he couldn't really come up with anything that was really personal for Hal. He knew the other man's favorite color, of course-- blue-- and he knew his favorite movie, which was some Akira cartoon thing he'd watched once with Hal and never really understood. He knew Hal's favorite food-- crab, as big as they came.

But what did he know about Hal beneath that? Of Hal's life? "Maybe one day, you'll tell me about all that."

Hal raised his eyebrows. "You wouldn't be interested. It's all personal stuff."

Dave made a little noise in the back of his throat. Not interested? In Hal? Where would Hal have gotten a stupid idea like that? "...Try me," he finally managed.

"Snake, Meryl tried that", said Hal with a shake of his head. "You got bored, and you went away. I'd rather not say anything that'll make you leave."

Snake bit back his first response: _I'd care if it was_ you _telling me,_ in favor of his second. "So, you're worried that I'll leave you?"

"Well, of course I am." Hal smiled uncomfortably. "I mean, I... I care, too."

Dave smiled. "All right." Dave's smile turned into a grin. He'd work on breaking down Hal's barriers later. Right now, they _did_ have other things to worry about. Snake decided to get them back on track. "So do you think their offer's for real?"

Hal bit his lip. "Well, for Foxdie? Not a chance. I looked up all the stuff she said, after we contacted Naomi Hunter. It was hard, but I managed it," he said, looking proud of himself. "She said she didn't have a cure, and I found out that no one else does either. Cures don't just come like that. Viruses have been studied for _years_ without a breakthrough. And she said yours was random, which means it's mutating all the time. So... even though I'd like to believe there's a cure, I don't think there is."

"If they're lying about mine, why would they be telling the truth about yours?"

"Well..." Hal's shoulders sank. "I don't know where E.E. is. I haven't even talked to her mother since it happened."

"Then don't you think it's time you did?" asked Snake with a pointed look at the phone.

"You don't know her," he said, his hand reaching behind his head to massage his neck.

Snake put a hand on Hal's shoulder and squeezed gently. "Strict, huh?"

"Uh... not really." Hal sighed. "I don't want to get into it. But I guess you're right. I'll call her." Dave nodded, pleased that Hal was going face this head on. "Could you just... give me a bit of space?"

"Oh. Right." Dave shrugged and stood as Hal picked up the phone, then walked over to the kitchen, pulling some coffee out of the freezer. He glanced over after a moment to make sure that Hal was actually dialing.

The other man was turned toward the wall, hands fiddling with the phone cord. Dave put some water in the coffee machine as the first quiet words were spoken.

"Julie? It's Hal," said the other man quietly. "I know I haven't called in a long time, but--"

Dave's ears had to strain to catch the one-sided conversation. Part of him wondered why he didn't just pick up another phone and listen in, but a larger part thought he should, at least to some extent, respect Hal's privacy.

Hal sighed. "I know." There was a pause. "Yes, I know." A slightly shorter pause. "That's not what I called to talk to you about," he said, loudly enough that Dave had to keep from turning his head to look. He sounded annoyed.

Snake shook his head and started to put the coffee into the special gold filter Hal had bought, then stopped, noticing the dust, and put it under the tap instead. "I was just wondering how you were both doing, you and E.E.," said Hal, back to quiet. He paused for a moment. "Me? Oh, well, I graduated, got a job, lost the job... I'm doing... charity work right now."

Dave finished with the coffee machine and turned it on, letting the water start to boil and bubble it's way through the grounds. "She's working... _where?_ But..." Dave pulled two cups out of the cabinet and waited. "I mean, it's great that she finished school so early, but Rivermore?"

Rivermore? Snake didn't have time to consider the ramifications completely, because Otacon was talking again. "I was hoping I could call her. It'd make me feel a lot better if I could just--" He paused again. "No, I wouldn't want to bother her... Of course not."

The machine beeped. Good thing they hadn't been making much. Dave started pouring. "I'll... try to keep in touch. Things just haven't worked out for me since dad died." He poured into the other cup and picked them both up. "Yeah, I know. Okay. Goodbye, Julie."

He sat down at the kitchen table and set the other cup down across from himself. "So?"

Hal picked up his computer. "You paid all the bills, right?" Dave nodded. "Good, then the internet connection should still be up..." He walked to the table and opened the laptop, grabbing his coffee and taking a gulp. "Ew. Snake, you have to put more coffee than that in..." His fingers started typing.

"Anything I can do to help?" asked Dave.

"Nope," said Hal. "I'm just checking on Rivermore. Arms Tech and Rivermore worked together on Metal Gear before," he continued unnecessarily, "and... oh, database exposed to the net? Amateurs... Give me a few minutes to hack this. Anyone who exposes themselves like _this_ isn't doing top secret security precautions..."

Snake shrugged and watched Otacon work instead. He was muttering something under his breath about passwords and administrators and SA, whatever that was. His eyes had gained a certain glint as his face acquired a certain frown that surely was trademarked at this point. Snake grinned. Otacon was never better looking than when he was absorbed in some high-tech puzzle. Never more incomprehensible either, but that was beside the point.

"Got it!" Otacon paused. "She's working on... Metal Gear?" Hal sat back and bit his lip. "That can't be right..."

Snake scratched his temple. "So it probably _was_ her that gave us our info on that disastrous mission."

Otacon nodded sadly and started typing again. "It looks like it's a new model. Hang on, I'll see if I can bring up the specs..." His mouth started frowning, then his brow started creasing. "What's going on here?" he muttered. Snake shrugged and watched as Otacon did his cyber-battle. "They're blocking me out... I-- Damn it!"

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know. It's like someone noticed me. I got kicked out." Hal typed a few keys. "Well, according to what I _did_ get, it looks like she's in charge of the whole project. Which is messed up. She's under twenty. She can't possibly be heading a team."

"So she's there so they can keep an eye on her?"

"I don't know. I mean, she _is_ smart. It's just... well... it would mean she's better than me."

Snake raised an eyebrow. "Jealous, Otacon?"

"Well... yeah! I mean... even _I_ didn't get to be in charge of anything until I was twenty five." Snake smiled, eyes half-closed. "Anyway, if she's _really_ leading the project, I don't think she's in any danger. At least, not until Metal Gear is finished. But what if she's not?"

"Metal Gears don't just happen overnight," agreed Snake. "You said it yourself: she's a smart girl. Let's assume she made it there because she's good, not because she's your sister."

Otacon nodded. "Right. Well, in that case, she's too valuable. They can't kill her."

"So they have nothing on us," said Snake.

Otacon nodded again, but this time more hesitantly. "But once Metal Gear is complete, they won't need her anymore," he said, closing his laptop. "I can't just dismiss that."

Snake nodded. "So what do you want to do?"

Hal closed his eyes for a moment. "I have to do what they say. I couldn't live with knowing she'd died because of me."

Snake let out a breath. "Hal... we can rescue her. How long were you working on Metal Gear? A year? Two? This kind of thing is what I _do_. Wouldn't you rather see her safe and sound, rather than relying on updates from _them_?"

"Yes... but..." Hal drummed his fingers nervously on the table. "I haven't seen her in years."

"And it'll take us some time to find her," Snake reminded him. "But it would be much better for her."

Hal looked down and shook his head. "Her mother said she blames me."

Snake stood up, walked around the table, and put his hand on Otacon's shoulder. "Then don't you think you should clear things up?"

"You don't understand, Dave. I... Part of it _was_ my fault. Or maybe all of it. I can't just barge into her life, even if she's..." He sighed. "She hates me, and she's _right_ to hate me."

Snake shook his head. "How do you know? You said you haven't talked to her in years."

Otacon shook his head, and apparently decided to ignore the question. "What I don't understand is how she get into Metal Gear development."

"Probably the same way you did. An application and a job interview later..."

Hal nodded. "Look, I think we should accept. If nothing else, it gets us closer to knowing what they're doing. And what if they're telling the truth? What if E.E.'s just working for them so they can get at her? What if they've got a cure?" He looked down a moment. "I'm going to accept, whether you do or not."

Snake rolled his eyes. "Hal, I don't think they're going to accept just _one_ of us while the other's free to destroy Metal Gear."

Hal shook his head, frustration evident in the lines around his eyes. "Then you _have_ to accept, Dave."

Snake shook his head. "I don't trust them to deal with us in good faith, Otacon. We can't accept their terms."

Otacon's shoulders sank and he nodded unwillingly. "Then in that case... do it for _me_ ," he said, whipping his head around angrily to face Snake. "You want... something I can't give you right now... but if you don't listen to me, then you'll never have it."

Snake's eyes narrowed and his teeth ground together. "Excuse me?" His hand tightened into a fist and he had to keep himself from grabbing the other man by his lapels. As it was, the hand gently resting on Hal's shoulder tightened enough to make the analyst wince. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? How can you think I'd--" He cut himself off before he said anything more. "If that's what we're all about now, you can go try talking to Ocelot by yourself."

He let go of Hal as if the other man burned him and continued talking while the other man's face still showed his shock. "Do you really think I'm like that? Do you think I'd trade one for the other, Hal? Sounds like three months wasn't anywhere near long enough."

Hal stood and grabbed Dave's arm before the soldier stalked out of the room. Snake stopped, just barely willing to hear Otacon out. "I'm sorry, Snake. It's just... I'm not risking E.E.'s life because we don't trust them. Of _course_ we don't trust them! They're threatening us! But I can't ignore that threat. I won't." Hal caught Dave's fist in his hand. "Dave, please."

Dave turned slowly and looked at Otacon's face. He looked apologetic, and most of all, afraid. Dave softened at the fear he was trying to hide in the backs of his eyes. He took a deep breath. "Did _he_ teach you _that_ , too?" Snake asked, unable to keep the sharp edge out of his tone.

Hal pulled back and looked away for a moment. "You can't blame everything on him," he said softly.

Snake growled, then put his hands on Hal's shoulders and waited for the other man to look at him. "Just don't try that again," he said gruffly.

Hal nodded. "Look, Snake, I know you've got major reservations about working for them. I'd be lying if I said I didn't. But... they know we're alive. They probably know exactly where we are, even now. I don't want to read about my sister in the newspaper. I don't see _you_ dead either, from Foxdie or anything else. All we have to do is... follow orders. We can do that. We both _did_ do it."

"And what happened when we did?" Snake challenged back. "People _died_ when I followed orders, Hal. I killed them. In a roundabout way, _you_ killed them too, just by following orders. Are you a killer? Are you ready to _die yourself_ under orders?"

Hal looked away for a second. "We're already killing people. Look at all the nice marines who died on that tanker. And besides that..." Hal shook his head and shrugged unhappily. "If it was for E.E.," he said, lifting his head and trying to control his trembling lower lip, "yes."

Snake shook his head and grabbed his coffee from the other side of the table. "I don't think you have it in you to kill someone."

"I could do it for her," said Hal, sounding almost as doubtful as Snake felt. "If I had to."

Snake pulled his gun out, grabbed Otacon's hands, and put the gun in them. Otacon looked almost petrified by it. "Can you even aim it?"

Otacon stared at it a moment more, then put it carefully on the table. "This isn't helping us. I'll never be like... like all of you. I'm not the in-the-field kind of guy, you know that. But if I had to, I'd..." He looked down and his shoulders scrunched themselves together, echoing the expression on his face. "I'd send someone out there to do it for me." He looked back up pathetically. "Not for anyone. Just for her. And maybe you, though, I kind of think it'd be pointless if it were for you."

That was... nice of him to say. Snake took his gun back. "This is a bad idea, Otacon."

Otacon shrugged helplessly. "I know. But it's also the only one I can live with."

Snake nodded and sat down next to the other man. Otacon had made up his mind, so Snake had too. He couldn't exactly leave Otacon to deal with Ocelot alone, never mind about the rest of them. He'd never see the scientist again. "Then we're going to have to come up with an exit strategy."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They'd waited for hours after returning to the dark, messy apartment. They didn't say much to each other: Otacon was too keyed up, and Snake found it too difficult to calm the other man to bother talking. What they _did_ say to each other was terse.

When the doorknob turned, Otacon nearly jumped out of his seat. Snake put his hand on his gun-- joining _them_ didn't mean being stupid about it-- and waited. When Ocelot walked in, Snake grimaced, but left his gun in its holster, easily accessible but out of the way. "I thought I told you to have someone _else_ sent."

Ocelot shrugged. "They do as they please. Besides that..." He massaged his arm briefly. "The Snakes are my own... _special project_." His eyes narrowed and he looked Snake up and down, then turned to Otacon, eyes lingering slightly.

Snake stepped between them.

Ocelot smiled slightly as his vision was obstructed. He obviously found it amusing. Snake certainly didn't. "So," said Ocelot after a moment. "Your decision."

"How do we know you'll keep your end of the deal?" asked Snake sourly, unwilling to tell the man yes. "We'd be putting a hell of a lot of faith in you. You personally, since we haven't met _them_."

"You've been given more than enough time. We've been very generous."

"Yeah." Snake turned his head to glance at Otacon again. "You've got us," he said bitterly. Ocelot smirked, looking smug, just watching them. "Well, then? What do you want? You want him at some base somewhere? Do I have a mission? We're _not_ working alone, let's get that straight before anything else."

"You'll work where we tell you to," said Ocelot coldly. "Now toss your guns."

"This isn't part of the deal," said Snake.

"This is your first order," said Ocelot through his teeth. He clenched one fist. "Drop your guns."

Snake growled, intending to tell Ocelot to stuff his orders, but Hal's worried breaths were audible behind him. He took his gun out and tossed it across the room. _Maybe I have to do this, but I'm damned if I'm going to be shot with my own weapon._

Ocelot smiled as though he'd won some great victory. "Now, move over there." His grin widened. "And your partner can drop _his_ weapons."

Snake stared. "Otacon doesn't carry weapons," he said.

"Then he's a very foolish man," Ocelot said hoarsely, massaging his arm again. "Move."

Snake stepped slightly aside, ready to move back in between the two if Ocelot did anything aggressive towards Hal.

Ocelot looked Otacon up and down. "Stand up," he said coldly. Snake took a chance and glance at Otacon. He pursed his lips and stood, head down. "All right. Those clothes are too baggy. Take them off."

"What?" Snake wasn't sure whether his angry question or Hal's strangled one was louder, but Ocelot just lost his smile.

"The sweater and the pants. Off. Now."

"Now hold on," said Snake. "You _know_ he doesn't have a gun. He wouldn't know how to shoot a dummy two feet in front of him."

Ocelot pulled out his gun without any flash. "Stay out of it." Otacon looked up at Snake which turned out to be a mistake, as turning his head away meant he'd mistakenly locked eyes with Ocelot, who lost no time in pinning Otacon to the spot with his glare. "Take them off, or they will be _taken_ off of you."

Hal was rapidly turning white. "No," said Snake. "That's not happening. He's not taking off anything."

"Don't make me say it again."

"This deal is--"

"Snake." Hal walked up behind him and put a hand on Dave's shoulder. "I'm okay. It's for E.E., so... so I'm not going to worry about it."

Snake growled. Here he was trying to keep Hal safe, and what did Hal do? Put himself right in the line of fire, that's what! He kept his eyes focused on Ocelot while Hal took his clothes off. The other man looked vaguely bored, which certainly suited Snake fine. He listened as Hal quietly disrobed, hoping that Hal had worn clean underwear like some overprotective mother, watching Ocelot's eyes for the slightest spark of anything untoward.

A slight sniff from behind him along with Ocelot's nod told him that his partner had passed inspection. "We'll be in touch," he said with a slight nod of his head and a tip of his hat as he turned.

Hal sniffed behind him again. "Unfeeling bastard," he whispered.

Ocelot stopped suddenly, stiffly, then suddenly started to laugh. Snake recognized it: Liquid. He looked at his gun, too far away to reach if Liquid decided to shoot. He turned back and trained his gun between them. "That's not what you said then, lover! You begged for it! You wanted to be tied up. Does _he_ know how you liked Ocelot? How you came before he did?"

Ocelot's face twisted into a very Liquid-like smile as he turned his gun towards Snake. "Your taste is as good as mine, Snake! Except... you've undone my work... but not all of it, apparently." He walked forwards, far enough that he was out of Snake's reach but close enough that he was able to take Hal's arm.

Snake followed his every movement. "Kneel," he said suddenly. Hal fell as though Liquid had kicked his legs out from under him. Snake barely kept himself from wincing for the other man. "Now, if _I_ took advantage of this, you'd get your gun," mused Liquid in Ocelot's body. "But... I always got enough pleasure from watching." Liquid smiled. "Go pull down his pants, Hal, and suck him off."

"You sick fuck," said Dave, watching in horror as Hal crawled across the floor to him.

"Go for your gun and he's dead, Snake," warned Liquid with a smile. Hal's hands reached up automatically, his eyes closing as he leaned his forehead on Snake's abdomen. "You've been wanting this since you first saw him, haven't you, Hal... The nice version of me?"

Hal nodded. _Hal fucking nodded._ Snake stared at him uncomprehendingly. Hal pulled down the layers of clothing Snake wore.

"How long have you wanted him?" asked Liquid nastily. Hal shuddered and said nothing, his hands touching Dave's length hesitantly. "How long?" he demanded again.

"He came in..." Hal breathed deeply, shuddering heaves of breath in between his words. "The ninja was there... he saved me... shook me... thought he was you... I wanted him..."

Fuck this.

Dave took a precise step away from Hal and toward his gun, pulling his clothes back on. "If you want to kill us, do it. I'm not playing your game, Liquid."

Liquid watched Snake, assessing his moves. "Pitiful," he said finally. "I saw you trying to protect him. Hal, come here," he said, staring straight at Snake despite addressing the man on the floor.

Hal looked between them both.

Hal should have been stronger than that. "He doesn't have your genes," said Snake. Two could play this game of disinterested manipulation. He might have had less experience at it than his brother, but he had a _lot more_ on the line right now. "He's not working on anything you can exploit. So what's your interest?"

"Why Snake," said Liquid with a vicious smile, "I love him."

"You'd shoot someone you love?" demanded Snake.

"Well. I hate you more," he said, his smile softening. "Hal understands--"

"I love you, too," said Hal softly. Then he turned to face Dave. "He won't kill me, Snake, I know he won't--" Hal babbled on about Liquid's undying love for him, while said psychopath's smile grew wider, probably from seeing the rage growing on _Snake's_ face.

"We can help him! Liquid, you have to join us. Work against Metal Gear and--"

"Hal," said Snake, "why didn't he tell you about the nukes?" Hal stopped abruptly. "You think he'll join Philanthropy and stop what he worked to create? You always talk about your family's dark history, and mine is just as bad, but I'm not going to delude myself into thinking he's a good person."

"That won't work, Snake. Come here, Hal." His tone projected nothing but anger when he spoke Hal's name.

The scientist made an abortive move towards the other man, then turned back to Snake. "I... don't know what... to..."

"He's important to you." Liquid's eyes slid from Snake suddenly. "And I keep what's mine," he snarled and lunged at Otacon suddenly. Snake followed suit and knocked the gun out of Liquid's hand.

The two fought with savage fury, neither letting up. Despite Ocelot's age, Liquid quickly gained the advantage, fighting with dirty tricks that Snake didn't remember from their previous battle. Liquid managed to get on top of Snake, his hands going around Snake's throat. He threw his head back and laughed. "So this is the end of the great Solid Snake? Such an ignominious death!" He squeezed harder, Snake punching the other man in the solar plexus as he tried to get a breath. His vision began to blur. He felt his strength waning.

A shot rang out in the room.

Liquid seemed taken aback by it, releasing the pressure, and Snake took advantage of it, pushing Liquid to the floor under him. "You... it was never... You never--"

"Put the gun _down_ , Otacon," said Snake, not wasting more than a breath as he tried to subdue his brother.

There was a banging on the door. "Give the gun to _me_ ," said Liquid, still fighting Snake, "before it's too late."

"You never loved me..." Hal backed himself against the wall, hastily pulled on clothes sagging off of him.

Snake pulled one arm up to punch Liquid in the face, hard, as the banging at the door suddenly became rhythmic. "We have to get out of here. Now. Put the gun down, Hal." He hit Liquid again, and the head bounced off the floor, eyes suddenly losing their focus.

"But... he..."

Snake stood and the door shuddered. He grabbed Hal's hand. "Fire escape?"

"In the kitchen... but..."

Snake pulled them into the next room, slamming the door as the front one collapsed inwards. He opened the door and ran down the metal stairs, dragging Hal behind him. No one in the neighborhood was particularly interested in a couple of people running from the back of an apartment, but Snake pulled Otacon into the back alleys.

They ran until Otacon was panting. They ran until _Snake_ was starting to get winded.

When they stopped, Hal collapsed against Dave, only a few blocks from their apartment. Dave put his arms around the other man, holding him tightly. Hal didn't back away, just started crying, his arms reaching around in reciprocity. "I'm sorry," he said between sobs. "So sorry."

Dave didn't know what else to say except for "all right," and it wasn't all right, so he said nothing.

They stood there for a long time. How long exactly Dave wasn't sure, but eventually, Hal pulled out of his arms. "Can we go home?" he asked, half-brokenly.

"Yeah." Dave took Hal with one arm, half supporting him as they walked back to their apartment.

"I'm sorry," Hal said again, his whole body trembling. Dave supposed the cold wasn't helping Hal much.

"I know." Dave pulled the other man a little closer to him. "Three months ago, you told me you still loved him. What about now?"

Hal shuddered, but didn't shake his head. "I don't know how to stop," he replied, his voice shaking. "I'm sorry. I know he doesn't... but... I just don't know how... to stop..."

Even with his too-late, newly-found understanding, Hal still loved Liquid. Well, Snake wasn't a soldier for nothing. He knew a lost cause when he saw it. Once a war was lost, there really wasn't any reason to fight the battles.

It was time to move on.

But then... when had any Snake ever really known when to quit?

Dave took a deep, cleansing breath. "We'll get you through it."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey, Snake! You know what we need?"

Snake turned, his eyes narrowed slightly. That tone always seemed to bring with it a request to go investigate cattle mutilations or crop circles or ghosts in swamps. "What?" he asked.

"A secret handshake! That way, if there are any more Snake clones out there, I'll know which one's you. I saw this show with these triplets that played jokes on each other because no one could tell them apart! Wouldn't it be neat if we had a way to know for sure--"

Snake sighed. Secret handshakes? This was worse than that last thing about shooting down missiles with butterflies flapping in the right part of the world.

"Hal, you'd know me wherever we are."

"But what if I didn't? It always happens in movies, and even in real life, when the evil twin and the good twin get into a fight, and then no one knows which one's which, and--"

Snake rolled his eyes. He wasn't all that likely to get into a fight with Liquid again, after all, or at least not one that Hal had even the slightest chance at not knowing the different between the two, what with Liquid's arm being what held the man's consciousness. It proved, quite conclusively, that a man's brains were not really below the belt.

"Hal! If I got into a fight with one of my brothers, I wouldn't exactly want you stepping in to sort things out."

"Well, no." Otacon looked frustrated. "But what if I couldn't tell it was you and started telling them secrets and--"

"Hal! There's a simple way to tell."

"What?"

"Well," said Snake, pleased he'd gotten Hal to stop talking about silly handshakes that really belonged back in school. "You tell me you're not sure who I am, and I'll do _this_." He pulled Hal into an embrace and kissed him gently.

"Oh." Hal looked slightly uncomfortable for a moment, then brightened. "Well, that could work."

Snake smiled and went back to his newspaper.

There was a brief pause while Otacon sat at the other side of the table and drank his coffee. "You're sure you're you right now, right?"

Snake sighed and looked witheringly at Hal over the top of the newspaper.

"Well, good. But we still need a handshake!" he declared. "I'll get to work on it right away!"


End file.
